FSE

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It's the summer before my senior year of high school and my folks are under the impression that a young bull like me needs to "build character" before he goes off to college. Apparently, the only way to build character is to get a summer job instead of hanging with my friends at the mall or playing video games, so here I am, ankle-deep in cow shit, mucking out the barn at a local dairy farm. Man, this stinks. Literally. The work isn't so bad, otherwise, and the pay is pretty good. I suppose things could be worse.

The owner of the farm, a gruff stallion I know only as Mr. McKinley, is having his milking machines replaced by a state of the art system that's supposed to milk the cows twice as fast, which is great for him and his cows, but it means I have to carry each of the fifteen individual milking machines out to the old barn where the broken tractors and spare milk crates are kept.

It's a warm summer morning and I quickly work up a sweat, pausing in the cool interior of the barn to remove my shirt before heading back across the pasture for the last of the machines. As I near the main barn, I hear the soft lowing of the cows and the whirring of the machinery. Farmer McKinley is trying out his new system. He's got a dozen cows lined up in individual slots as he moves down the row, attaching the suction devices to their teats. I wonder what that feels like. It doesn't seem to bother them any. I grab the last of the old machines and head out.

Back in the old barn, I place the milk machine with the others and sit down on a bale of straw to take a break. Farmer McKinley will be busy with the cows for a while and won't miss me if I take a moment to relieve some adolescent tension. I unzip my jeans and spit in my hand, quickly stroking my cock to its full length. As I jerk myself, my gaze strays to the row of old machines against the wall and I'm suddenly struck by an idea that makes my cock twitch and start leaking precum.

I dig around in the back room until I find the extra tubes of lubricant the farmer uses to artificially inseminate the cows. I slather it on my cock, then pull one of the old milking machines into the center of the room and start the sucker up (pun intended). Not sure what to expect, I touch the opening of one of the four suction devices to the tip of my cock and gasp as it slurps it up, the rhythmic sucking drawing my entire cock into the cylinder. It sucks and sucks and sucks, and my shaking legs can't hold me up anymore. I sink to my knees and drop forward onto all fours, my hips thrusting, back arching, cock swinging as I cum, the machine slurping up my cream and spitting it into the collection tank.

Still shaking, I reach out to shut off the machine, but my hand is slick with lube and I can't get a hold of the switch. The machine keeps sucking, pulling at my sensitive cockhead, a sensation so intense it's almost painful. I try the other hand, but now the switch is slippery. I can't shut it off.

I'm panting, moaning helplessly, my whole body quivering as I reach down and grab the suction device, trying to pull it off, but I might as well be trying to pull my cock off instead. It won't budge.

I shudder, moaning helplessly as I cum again, the greedy machine sucking up every drop and still hungry for more. I feel dizzy, unable to catch my breath. Will I have to wait for the machine to run out of gas? I glance at the gauge, a whimper escaping me as I see that the tank is half full. It'll run for hours.

"Help!" I cry. "Somebody, help me!" I'll be mortified to be caught like this, but that's better than having my balls implode as this machine sucks all the cum out of me. A shadow falls across me and I glance up, my face burning as I see Mr. McKinley, the stallion farmer, standing over me. "Make it stop, please," I beg.

"Looks like you got yourself into a bit of a predicament," he says, his gruff voice deep and rumbling, reminding me of thunder. "Got your cock stuck in a milking machine, eh?"

"I'm sorry," I say. "Please, help me."

"The thing about milking machines," he says, and to my horror, he steps around behind me and kneels down, "is that you need to have all four teat cups attached to get an even suction."

I cry out as he attaches two of the cups to my ballsack, each opening sucking on a testicle, and the last cup to my perineum, moving it around until I buck and cry out as it begins pulling on my prostate. I cum hard, panting and groaning, as the orgasm rolls through me, a continuous shuddering pleasure that has the cum streaming from my cock.

I can't hold myself up any longer and I collapse onto the dirt floor of the old barn, stirring up the dust as I gasp and writhe. I'm dry, empty, but the machine keeps on sucking. It's going to kill me.

Before I can die, however, Mr. McKinley pulls a ratty handkerchief out of his pocket and uses it to wipe the switch clean and turn the machine off. It falls silent, the cups dropping off, and I sob with relief.

"Thank you...thank you..." I pant.

"Don't thank me yet," the farmer rumbles, and I flinch as I feel a thick, slippery finger under my tail, probing my hole. I glance back, my eyes widening as I see him kneeling there, the fly of his overalls open and his thick, veined cock glistening with lubricant.

"No -- No, please," I beg, trying to get up, to get away from him, but my muscles feel like rubber. I can hardly move, let alone fight him.

"Relax, kid," Mr. McKinley says gruffly. "Those teat cups are too small for me, so you'll have to do." I moan and writhe as he stretches me with his fingers, my body still too sensitive to bear the added stimulation. He presses his blunt cockhead into me and I grit my teeth against the pain, but I'm soon moaning again, hands curling into fists against the earth as he covers me with his massive, muscular body, the denim of his overalls rubbing against my back as he fucks me with long, deep thrusts, one hand sliding under me to stroke my cock.

His hot breath bathes the back of my head as he grunts and puffs, thrusting harder, faster, his balls smacking against mine. I feel him tense, and then he throws his head back and whinnies as he fills me with his cum, so full it overflows and runs down the insides of my thighs. When he finishes, he shoves his cock deep into my ass and holds himself there, rocking his hips as he jerks my cock, bringing me to another loud, shuddering orgasm, but without any cum coming out. I'm completely dry.

He pulls out, more cum leaking from my stretched hole as I lay there, unable to move. I watch him wipe himself off and tuck himself back into his overalls, then he steps over to the milking machine and detaches the holding tank with my cum in it.

"Looks like a new record," he says, then chuckles at the shocked look on my face. "What? Did you think you were the first farm hand to have this idea? I 'replace' my milking machines every year and it never fails. Horny young bulls are all the same." He's still chuckling as he walks out, leaving me naked and exhausted in the dirt, but unbelievably satisfied.